Always
by CompletelyCreativeUsername
Summary: He's been there before, but he's quite aware they're dying. Can the Doctor help Clara when he notices she's not herself? A Whouffle based around the song Always by Blink-182.


**Always**

**A/N: Hello all, CCU back for another story... I didn't think I would come up with a new idea so quickly, but I was listening to music and this popped up... I hope you guys enjoy, and let me know if I did a good second job at writing for DW, and if I should continue with these!**

**This story is based around the song _Always _by Blink-182. If you have heard it, then I think you'll really like it, and it should be fun to find all the hidden lines in here. If you haven't heard it though, I HIGHLY suggest you go check it out, it's an AMAZING song by an equally amazing band! :)**

'Hello? Clara?' The Doctor's voice came through the door of the Maitlands. 'It's Wednesday!'

Footsteps and voiced were heard with a quick, 'yeah, I'm coming!' And a few more muffled sounds.

The Doctor sighed quietly. This had been happening with Clara more frequently, as opposed to her standing outside the door, ready to go. He had only been inside a few times, and se he was not comfortable with just coming in unannounced. But with each visit since Clara had jumped into his timeline, he's been waiting outside that door longer and longer, more and more.

A few minutes later the door finally opened to see a slightly tired looking Clara. His initial reaction was to frown in concern at her dimmed eyes, but the Doctor fought against it and simply smiled at Clara, who returned the favor. They started walking to the TARDIS.

'So, my Clara,' he said to her as he closed the to the ship after her, 'where to go this fine Wednesday?' He looked quizzically at her, which she simply shrugged at.

'Oh, I don't know…' She looked at the console, 'how about just a look at the stars?' He smiled at her.

'Perfect, Clara.' He said, 'Perfect.'

But he was quite aware that something between them was dying.

'Beautiful, isn't it?'

The duo was sitting on the edge of the TARDIS with feet dangling into space. They were staring mindlessly at a nebula, swirling with golds and greens, blues and purples of various gases. Clara nodded blankly.

'Yeah, it really is…' She trailed simply blinking. The Doctor looked at her sighed. He couldn't watch this anymore.

'Clara…' He took her hand to gain her attention, 'what's wrong?'

Clara snapped her gaze to him, a flash in her eyes. She faked a pleasant smile.

'How do you mean, Doctor?'

'You're different, Clara.' He said. 'You're all wrong.' She let out a small sigh.

'How could I be 'wrong,' Doctor?' He paused for a bit.

'Just…' He looked at her, 'those little things, Clara, it's like they've… gone.' She rolled her eyes.

'No, but really, Clara,' He squeezed her hand. 'Now I'll admit I'm wrong if you tell me, but I haven't heard your laugh for so long, I miss it. And your smile…' He touched her face gently, 'your real, impossible smile… I barely see it anymore.' Clara opened her mouth.

'It's not impossible, Doctor, and neither am I!' She near yelled and stood up, walking away from the door.

'And _that, _Clara!' He followed suit quickly. 'You get so angsty now, beyond your typical feisty self!' He grabbed her shoulders. 'It's like you don't want to see me any…' He looked at Clara, sadness suddenly clouding his eyes. She stopped struggling and looked down at her shoes.

'You don't want to travel with me anymore.'

'I don't want you to go…' The Doctor murmured. He was now alone in the TARDIS.

Once again.

Clara had told him that she had been overwhelmed with jumping into the Doctor's timeline, that it damaged her. But what shocked the Doctor the most was that Clara was never noticed. She'd saved him, time and time again, and sure at times he had _listened _to her, but as soon as he heard her, she was gone. After dying again and again, the Doctor never made an effort to see her, he never _tried. _He'd shrugged her off too much throughout all his regenerations, and it was bound to happen again in this one, too. So Clara had wanted to be dropped out, before she was forced to.

And so he did what she wanted, and dropped her off. Once and for all.

But he regretted it. He regretted it _so much._

He sat, thinking. If he had just did what she asked, without a fight, he was proving her right. He wasn't trying to keep her to stay. He was doing exactly what she'd seen a thousand times before. And soon, that thought boiled up inside of the Doctor, angering him. He'd shown Clara that he didn't care a _bit _about her, when in fact it was quite the opposite.

And he had to prove it to her. He had to prove her wrong.

'CLARA!' There was a loud banging on the Maitland's door. It had been a few weeks since Clara had left the TARDIS and the Doctor, so the loud disturbance made her jump.

As soon as she opened the doo, Clara was yanked outside and the door closed quickly behind her, possibly locking her outside. She was surprised at the sudden movement compared to her idle position she was just in on the couch inside, but was more shocked at who had closed the door. Standing only inches or so from Clara was none other than the Doctor, looking the same he did when she last saw him… Apart from the strange new glint of determination in his eye.

'_Doctor?'_

'Clara, listen,' he cut her off. 'When you left, you said I wasn't trying. I didn't know what you meant then, but I do now.'

'Doctor—'

'So here I am, Clara,' he softened, 'I'm trying.' He hugged her tight. 'I'm sorry, Clara, I I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know how much my timeline affected you, how many times I shrugged you off throughout my life, and I sadly never will, but I've been alone enough to know what it's like to feel it, that loneliness,' he pulled away to look at her, 'when you're _surrounded _by your closest friends. I've done that to you, Clara, and for that, I'm sorry.

'And yea, I know rule number 1: I lie. But Clara, not this time… not this time.'

And without a moment to spare, their lips met. Soft and gentle, yet hurried and quick. Clara held in his arms, skin touching, the feeling of each other bringing all of those memories of their impossibility together back.

They finally parted, foreheads touching.

'I'll always care, Clara. I'll always try.'

'Always?'

'Always.'


End file.
